A Sign at the Dancing Dove
by BlueEyes2010
Summary: Alanna comes to the Dove for an evening and gets a glimpse of Jon in one of his worse states. She then spends the evening with George, an evening that should have happened before Jon and Liam came into her life.


The Dancing Dove was overflowing with thieves, pickpockets, murders, flower girls, exotic dancers, and all other variety of souls who made a living in the shadows of the Royal Capital in Tortall. Among them, dark hair unnoticeable among the bright scarves of the flower girls, sat Jonathan of Conte, Royal Knight and Crown Prince of Tortall, and George Cooper, King of the Rouge, locked in a heated battle.

"Come on ye spineless merchant, ya haven't the stomach!" George challenged, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"You may live in a tavern, you worthless thief, but that doesn't mean you can hold your alcohol better than me!" Jonathan, or Johnny as we was know in the city, proclaimed before preceding to down a tanker of ale, slamming the empty wooden mug on the table where it sat with eight other mugs just like it. "Ten!"

The tavern roared encouragement as their king lifted his glass, accepting the challenge of his merchant friend. "To the Dancing Dove," he downed the mug.

Jon grabbed another mug from a passing serving wench, "To Tortall!"

"To His Majesty!"

"To Laughing Nell, a pretties flower girl in the city!" A twelfth mug hit the table.

"To Prince Jonathan!" George's twelfth mug hit the wooden table with a heavy thud.

Jonathan, now sitting comfortably with the flower girl Laughing Nell in his lap, picked up his eleventh mug. He raised it high, "To The Rouge." Thirteen fallen soldiers now littered the dirty tavern table.

George looked at his friend across the table. The Prince's eyes were glazed, his hands wandering over the voluptuous flower seller in his lap. No doubt, the thief thought, if Jonathan were able to take the girl home she would certainly have woken up in his bed the next morning. George was a good friend with the prince, but even he was unsure of the wisdom behind Jon's numerous conquests. One lass was enough for him, even if he wouldn't be waking up with her the next morning. As his thoughts began to drift towards a certain violet-eyed squire, the tavern door opened and in crept the very fiery haired woman he was thinking about. George grinned when she walked in, he always grinned when he saw Alanna, though he often had to hide this reaction from any members of the Rouge that were around. Still, with all the drunken chaos of the tavern tonight no one would connect the squire's entrance with George's grin. "To Loverly Women," he toasted, resting his thirteenth mug on the table.

Alanna had been looking forward to an evening in the city for weeks. Due to court functions and squire duties she had been unable to come down to the city, so when Duke Gareth told her she was free to go that night from serving duty, she quickly tossed on an old green tunic and ran down the Palace Way. Faithful had stayed behind, proclaiming that if another Rouge stepped on his tail in the busy tavern, he could not guarantee their health and safety. _They step on my tail, and I will ensure that certain tender limbs of theirs are shredded to ribbons, _had been the cat's exact thoughts. Not wanted to deal with such a messy situation, Alanna had left the cat in Sir Myles' care for the evening.

Quickly opening the tavern door and slipping in, Alanna scanned the room. Tonight was obviously a good night for the bar, every stool having an occupant, sometimes more than one, and every table filled. There was a large crowd around the fireplace and the two chairs set up there. Alanna sighed, she could see George sitting before the fire, a tankard of ale in his hand. No doubt he was drinking some poor city boy under the table. Few knew or guessed the Rouge's ability to hold his drink. Alanna knew, but only because she had nursed some of George's former opponents back to health, either holding their heads over the sewer in the street at the end of the night, or mixing up her hangover remedy the next morning. Raoul and Gary had never again made the mistake of challenging George to a drinking contest, Alanna could not imagine who was stupid enough to do so.

Jonathan grinned widely, seeing his opponent temporarily distracted by something behind him. Suddenly curious as to what, or who, had caught George's eye, perhaps a prettier flower girl than the one in his lap now, Jon stood, dumping Laughing Nell onto the floor. Surely it was a pretty girl. Since his drinking contest was looking like it might be a loss, Jonathan was determined to have at least one conquest tonight. Looking through the smoky room Jon was disappointed to see no beauties. In fact, the only new person to the tavern since he had last looked was only Alanna, hardly the girl he was going to bed! Jon snorted; Alanna couldn't be what had caught George's attention. She was too short, her hair cut too boyishly short. Her chest was too flat, and her face too plane, lacking the face paint that Jonathan had grown so used to on court ladies. _Alanna is no girl to catch a man's eye. George must be drunker than I thought!_

This new thought giving him inspiration, Jonathan spun around a grabbed another mug. "Fourteen!" He proclaimed and downed the mug in one gulp. He would show Laughing Nell how good he was at drinking, and then maybe later he would show her how good he was at other things. This night was going to end well, he just knew it.

George tore his eyes away from Alanna just in time to see Jonathan down his fourteenth mug. The boy was drunk, George could tell, barely standing on his own two feet. George sighed, if Alanna saw her friend in this condition she would no doubt spend the rest of the evening caring for the careless prince. Too often George had watched Alanna's evenings be spoiled by her palace friends drinking themselves sick. The lass needed a fun night, one during which she didn't have to worry about any drunk friends. Sizing up the situation George made a quick decision. Grabbing one more mug he caught Jon's attention and downed it. "Fourteen, lad, and I win. One more and you'll be under the table. Now Nell," he addressed the flower seller, "why don't you take young Johnny up here to your room, I'm sure the lad would enjoy your company."

Jonathan grinned at the girl and was willingly led up the stairs by her. George, feeling rather virtuous, watched the two long enough to make sure that Jon made it up the stairs before he began to puke, before catching Alanna's eye and motioning that she should join him by the fire.

"Where is your friend?" Alanna asked, nodding to the twenty-eight empty mugs on the table.

"Oh, you know these city boys, they just can't seem to hold their drink," he grinned. God, Alanna was beautiful tonight. The fire caught her hair and made it shine a brilliant copper. Her tunic fit well, carefully hiding her girlish figure. Best of all, she lacked the face paint so many women wore in tasteless amounts. George liked natural beauty, not the face paints that so many used to cover up imperfections. Alanna was perfect, years of weapon training giving her a grace uncommon to many women. _Perfect._

Alanna looked George over, noting how his tight brown tunic showed of flawless abs, and how his untied shirt showed his perfectly muscled chest. She knew she shouldn't think such things about her old friend, but such thoughts were hard to stop when it came to George Cooper. He was handsome, strong, kind, caring, and her best friend in the world. Alanna knew Jonathan thought he held that place in her life, but the truth was the prince often annoyed her. The constant womanizing, the snotty attitude he got sometimes as prince of the blood, and the way he almost seemed to expect her to fall at his feet like every other court lady. Jonathan took too much for granted, something Alanna did not appreciate.

"I hope whoever it is has someone to take care of them, George. Do I know them?"

"Now lad, don't you worry about some foolish city lad who had too much to drink, you haven't been to the Dove in weeks, enjoy your evening. Drink?"

Alanna grinned; while she didn't often drink George had gotten her into drinking a light, sweet ale. Alanna knew it was a drink only drunk by flower girls and other ladies in the tavern, but as long and it was George who fetched it for her, none need ever know that a royal squire was drinking a 'girly drink.' "Sure."

A drink later Alanna was finally beginning to relax. She wasn't drunk by any stretch of the imagination, but the relaxed atmosphere of the tavern and George's friendly conversation had finally begun to loosen her up after weeks spent in the stressful environment that the palace could be at times. She loved being able to come down to the city and forget for a time that she was a squire and a girl pretending to be a boy. She could just relax. Still, in the main tavern room she couldn't drop all her masks, but at least she didn't have to be overly polite to everyone. Sometimes the manners required of a squire were just too much for her.

"Hm?" Alanna asked George, having realized that his last comment had been a question.

"I said things seem to be dying out down here, would you like to come up to my room?" Alanna raised her eyebrow. "Wait," George began again, "that came out wrong. What I mean is, we seem to find our selves surrounded by couples, would you like to leave and come up to my room with me?" George knew this hadn't come out correctly either, but Alanna only grinned and set her tankard aside.

"Stop digging George, I know what you're asking. It's not that kind of invitation, I understand."

George nodded, glad Alanna understood the innocent nature of his request. Still, he couldn't help but notice the flash of hurt in her eyes as she accepted his invitation. Hope flared, was it possible Alanna was realizing she was not as heartless and she liked to think she was?

George's room was warmly furnished, two large, plush chairs sitting before a brightly crackling fire. Heavy curtains kept out even the stiffest breezes, and lovely paintings adorned the wall. For a thief George had a very rich taste in art. In recent years he had come upon a rather lush bed, which now dominated one corner of the room. While Alanna and many others suspected that many a flower girl had been tossed down on this bed since its "purchase," the fact remained that George's bed had been virtuously empty since Alanna had left for the Drell River Valley. Since their kiss in the library before her departure, all George could think about was how much he missed holding her in his arms. He tried to keep the depth of his feeling hidden, but he knew from the shocked and somewhat troubled expression she sometimes wore when he looked at her that his desire was not always kept from his eyes. Still, true to her word she would let nothing ruin their relationship.

Alanna picked up a delicately carved wooden box, "This is pretty. What noble house did this come from?" she joked. Alanna knew that while George would not hesitate to lift a noble's purse or slip into an unlocked window to benefit the Rouge, he preferred to buy for himself the nick-knacks he kept around his person quarters.

George grinned, "Now lass, I can't be giving away such secrets, ya might know the Lord, and then where would I be?" He handed her a sweet wine. "Take a seat, lass, you look beat. I heard you did well in jousting this week, what weight is resting on your shoulders now?"

Alanna sighed. She knew George liked her, possibly even loved her. How could she admit to that man that loved her that she was having boy troubles? That would mean admitting Jon had kissed her, and she didn't think she was ready for her oldest friend and crush to know that yet.

Since the kiss at the Drell Falls, Jon had been difficult. He blew hot and cold. Sometimes he treated her almost like he forgot she was a girl, other times he could hardly keep his eyes, or hands, off of her. It was exhausting. Sure Jon was her friend, but Alanna didn't think she was ready for him to be anything else. Jon could be rather heavy handed on the relationship front, and Alanna wasn't sure she wanted to be tumbled into bed by the prince just yet, if at all. "It's just the usual, classes, Roger, this whole masquerade-"

"Jon?"

"Wha- Jon?" Alanna looked up, her eyes wide. Geroge knew the look, knew she was about to tell some lie about the prince, and held up his hand before she could begin. "Lass, it's not the servants, ya have no fear. Your secret ain't made it through to them yet. But I'm not blind, I see how he looks at you. He's stalking you, trying to make a move. He hides it well, but I've known you both too long to be fooled."

Alanna was stunned. This wasn't how George was suppose to find out! "George, I, I," suddenly the words began to spill from her mouth, "hekissedme. I didn't want it, and I had just woken up, and he had just bandaged my arm, and, and, oh George, I think he likes me."

George stood from his chair and went to lean against the fireplace. He knew this relationship was coming, he just hadn't expected the news to hurt so much. He knew Alanna and he were meant for each other, but he also knew he would probably have to wait for her to realize it, and that Jon would have far more opportunities than him to make his moves. It hurt, the King having to take second place to the Prince, the best friend taking second place to the knight master. Still, he knew as a friend the best thing he could do was support her. If she wanted the prince, then he wouldn't stop her. "He's a charming fellow, you two will do well together."

Alanna was stunned. George was all right with this news? Panic began to rise in her. George would encourage Jon, and then she would be forced into a relationship. "George, no! I don't love him! I love-" She shut her mouth quickly, panic in her eyes. She had almost told George she loved him. But that wasn't possible. She didn't love anyone. She was going to be a warrior maiden and do great deeds! she couldn't be tied down by a man! _But George would never tie you down_ a small part of her mind said, but she pushed that aside.

Hope flared in George's chest. If she didn't love the prince, maybe, just maybe, the person she loved was he. Knowing Alanna would panic further if he vocalized the thought, instead he carefully placed his glass on the mantle and kneeled in front of her chair, taking her trembling hand in his. Carefully, almost timidly, he reached up and brushed her hair out of her eyes. Wordlessly she nodded, hardly knowing what she was consenting to, but knowing that what George was doing was somehow right for her. Backlight by the fire, George slowly leaned in a placed his lips on hers. Alanna leaned into the kiss, not forgetting their encounter in the library before she went to war. Oh, it felt so right!

Gently he led her on to the floor in front of the fire next to him. How perfectly she fit in his arms! He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Alanna sighed in contentment. It felt so right, to sit here in his arms. To be held close and forget for a moment that she was a girl pretending to be a boy, that she had a deadly enemy in the form of a royal duke, that she was only a girl in a man's world whose ordeal of knighthood was rushing towards her at an alarming rate. All that was forgotten when George held her, she could just lean into his embrace and be seen and treated as she was, a beautiful woman.

George rested his lips on her hair, his hands mindlessly wandering over her back, arms, and hair. She was so beautiful. So strong, independent, and fearless, but at the same time as gentle and timid romantically as any court lady. She was everything he wanted in a woman, and for tonight at least she was his, and no one else's, especially not some careless prince's. Turning her face towards his he looked in her eyes and was drowning in violets. "Alanna of Trebond, if need be I'll wait years before I get to hold you like this again, but always remember how this feels, and always know that when you're ready, I'll be here waiting."

Knowing she had no words deep enough to express her feelings, Alanna simply nodded before leaning into his kiss, wordlessly expressing her feelings. While other men would come before George, first Jon, then Liam, Alanna knew that even with Jon and Liam holding her fancy, her heart was always held by George Cooper first. Jon would entertain her for a time in the palace, and Liam would keep her bed warm on the road, but George Cooper would always be there for her heart. Alanna deepened the kiss, knowing another might not come for years but wanting to stay there forever.


End file.
